Never Trust Your Cousin
by Psycho Goddess
Summary: A drunken Sara in a tree. And some G-R-I-S-S-O-M [Unbound Challenge Response]


**Author's Notes**: Thanks to Suzy, who provided the inspiration for this. Though she was probably hoping for something a little more logical. *g*

Response to this week's Unbound Challenge. And this time it was exactly 1,000 words. Yay me!

**Disclaimer**: Nope, still not mine. Which is a good thing, considering what I do to these poor characters.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bunching up her wedding dress, Sara climbed out the window. Technically it wasn't _her_ dress, she consoled herself as she shimmied from the ledge to the nearest branch. Thank God Grissom had a tree in his yard. The monstrosity she wore actually belonged to her cousin Stephanie, who had unwittingly offered her prized possession in the name of Operation Screw Grissom.

Which hardly explained why Sara was now stuck in an oak tree ten feet above ground.

"Shit, shit, shit!" she muttered, ruing the day she thought this had been a good idea. 

It had seemed so obvious at first. Or had once the first affects of alcohol had worked their way into her system. Go to Grissom's house. Be dressed to kill. Wait for him to come home from work. Screw him. Go home. And if things went well, repeat the process nightly.

This was officially the last time Steph was allowed near her with alcoholic beverages in tow.

"Well, at least I got out of the house before he got in," she consoled herself. 

Then it sunk in. For all her scramblings, she hadn't heard him enter; a light flicked on in the neighbour's house. _Fuck!_ It wasn't Grissom's car after all. Oh well, that was a good thing. All she had to do was climb back into the window and leave through the front door. Never think about it again.

Only problem was, the window had shut behind her. 

She looked down again, quickly deciding she'd probably break her neck in her condition. Fine then, she'd wait for it to wear off. Or a passing gentleman to help her down.

Realizing the chances of that happening at three am in a residential area of Las Vegas was slim to none, she moved closer to the tree trunk and settled down for some long term tree-hugging.

~*~

          "Isn't this charming?" teased a voice from below, shaking Sara out of her state of semi-consciousness at daybreak. 

          Still intoxicated, she looked down.

          "Why, hello Grissom! Come to be my knight in shining armour?"

          "Interesting choice in dress," he replied, a smirk still firmly planted on his face. "May I ask _why_ you're wearing a wedding gown?"

          "That's a very good question," she said, thinking hard. "If I find out, I'll let you know."

          He was amused by her condition. For the moment. 

          "How'd you end up in my tree?"

          She pointed to his window. 

          "Climbed out. Been waiting for you to rescue me," she shrugged. "But I kind of like it up here."

          As if to demonstrate, she began swing her legs to and fro. The movement caused him to focus on her long legs- as if he needed prompting- which were bare beneath the gauzy skirt.

          She had beautiful legs, he decided.

          Sensing his scrutiny, Sara grinned at him salaciously. 

          "Enjoying the view?"

          "Just examining the scene," he said calmly.

          She was having none of it.

          "Always the investigator," she teased, inching the skirt up to reveal even more tantalizing leg. She stretched her leg out, slowly flexing it. "Care to investigate this?"

          "As lovely as they are, your legs are hardly your most intriguing feature," muttered Grissom to himself. 

          She heard him though, and gave a sunny smile.

          "Are you trying to charm me?"

          "Is it working?" he replied automatically.

          She gave this careful consideration.

          "Yes."

          "Then yes, I was trying to charm you."

          Her grin widened, and she let go of the skirt. This change in momentum caused her to sway, and though she righted herself quickly, the precarious situation she was in was now evident.

          "Sara, please come down."

          To his credit, he actually sounded concerned.

          "What's in it for me?"

          "Come down and I'll make you dinner," offered Grissom, pleading with the small bit of her which was still rational.

          "An offer I can't refuse," she admitted grudgingly.

          "Of course, I'll have to employ Greg in the kitchen…"

          "What?!? You're trying to tell me you can't cook?" queried a dumbfounded Sara. 

          "I can cook," he assured her. "But if I want things to be done on time, I'll need help in the kitchen. Therefore, Greg."

          "So you're trying to poison me for the sake of time?" 

          His eyes were the picture of innocent denial, but his twitching lips suggested he was amused.

          "Tell you what," Sara bartered. "You make sure I don't kill myself jumping down and you're off the hook."

          Grissom accepted the conditions of her compromise, and reached out to steady her. Grasping the branch firmly, Sara lowered herself as far as she could. There was still almost four feet to his cement patio though, and Grissom grasped her waist to assist. Dropping from the branch into Grissom's embrace, Sara found herself grasping his shoulder to balance. 

          Neither moved for a moment, both too surprised by the unintentional intimacy of their hold. Sara eventually gathered her wits, and stepped backwards.

          "I guess you're off the hook," she said sadly, somewhat disappointed. Dinner was nice.

          "Tell you what…. If you can guess what I'm thinking, I'll make you dinner anyways."

          "Three guesses?" 

          "Agreed," confirmed Grissom, a twinkle in his eye suggesting mischief.

          "Okay…" she bit her lip in thought. " 'Only in Vegas would you have to help a woman in a wedding gown out of a tree'?"

          "No."

          " 'I need a camera. This will be good for blackmail.'?" Suggested Sara, happy to play the game.

          "Would I blackmail you?"

          "Probably."

          "Okay. No, I was not thinking blackmail. One more."

          "You're wondering how many drinks I had, right?"

          Grissom laughed. "Close enough. Five o'clock, here."

          "Five o'clock," she confirmed. "On the nose."

          "I'll see you then. Though you should probably sleep this off before driving…"

          "I'm not that easy, Grissom. Feed me first."

          "Five o'clock."

          She nodded and headed off. She stopped at the edge of his driveway, and turned back.

          "So what were you thinking?"

          "Just remembering something from when I was a kid," he said fondly.

          "Which was?"

          "I love trees."

………………………….

Okay, you can shoot me now.


End file.
